Crashed Into a Gangster

3

Victoria

Why me?

I think of him, the guy who wrecked into my car - the guy who's car I wrecked. He was angry, aggressive. He had a gun...

I remember the way my heart raced. The way darkness coiled inside of me, at the sight of him.

"Babe?"

I remember his grin when I gave in, when I told him I would 'work for him'. What does that even mean?!

He had a gun, what was I suppose to say?

His eyes were so dark - and his tone, filled with authority.

He has no control over me, he doesn't know me... I don't know him. What even is his name?

"Babe...? Victoria!" I suddenly blink and look into the eyes of my fiancé, who is currently waving his hand in my face.

"Where'd you go? You sort of went into another world, there." He smiles. In turn, my brows furrow at him.

"What?" I question in a rather confused state.

And Jack... I can't tell Jack, right? But the guy with the tattoo - that detailed and familiar bird tattoo - he doesn't know where I live.

...Jack should know.

'And don't go to the police, sweetheart. Trust me, it won't get you anywhere.' The stranger's warning words come flooding into my mind again like viscous waves - the grin that played about on his full lips just before he walked off taunting my memory.

Telling Jack about this, going to the police would be the first thing Jack will do. I wanted to go to the police. But the guy who threatened I work for him gave me the warning, and I can't risk anything. Not now, not with Jack.

And speaking of my fiancé, I look up to see him crack a smile. "Never mind. I thought you were suppose to be at work? You're kind of...zoning out in the kitchen." he smirks.

I look down at the countertop of the island I'm seated at, the car keys inches away from my quivering hands. I place my hands under the surface and onto my lap - Jack can't see me like this. It will only lead to questions that I don't have honest answers for.

I clear my throat, "I called out. I don't know what hit me, I just started feeling a bit sick." I let out a tiresome breath to gain his belief. I watch him walk over to the house phone.

"Well, you should rest, babe." He walks over with the phone in his hands and plants a kiss on my forehead. "I hope you feel better, love. I got to step outside and make a call." I offer a small and faint smile when he heads out the kitchen.

I briefly close my eyes, and part my lips for a deep intake of breath.

Everything that just occurred merely 30 minutes ago is heavy on my chest. I need someone to talk to. I need to talk to someone that I can trust won't report this to the cops.

Everything instantly sinks within me when my sister comes to mind.

"Ann..." I whisper to myself, remembering the phone call that was interrupted half an hour ago by the crash.

I left my cell in the car... it flew from my own hand. She must be overwhelmed with panic. I hop out of the stool and make my way toward the front door. I swing it open and rush down the porch steps.